


A Walk on Part in the War

by Anterograde



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anterograde/pseuds/Anterograde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would be completely reasonable for this to have sent Charles over the edge. Perhaps it should have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Walk on Part in the War

Charles is falling apart.  
  
Perhaps the proper explanation would be that he is in _shock._ He's just gone through one of the most traumatic experiences of his life--been subject to unimaginable suffering at the hand of his friend, his _good_ friend, been forced out and away from his mind. It would be completely reasonable for this to have sent Charles over the edge. Perhaps it should have.  
  
Perhaps this speaks to a larger problem with Charles' psyche--that of emotional detachment in an attempt to control the effects of _constant_ exposure to _others'_ emotions, extreme or otherwise. (This certainly isn't the case. Though sometimes Charles is afraid that it is, he need only to look within his own home, at Raven and Hank and _Erik_ to remind himself of exactly how impossible that would be.)  
  
"There are thousands of men on those ships! Good, honest, innocent men!" _God, Erik, just let me in!_ That stupid, bloody helmet is keeping him out like Erik's steely expression is keeping Erik in. And maybe it is the stress, the shock, that allows Charles to say what he says without thinking about it first. "They're just following orders."  
  
He knows it's wrong as the words are leaving his mouth, but it's too late now.  
  
"I've been at the mercy of men just following orders." Erik's voice is shockingly steady, unaffected and lofty and so far away and it's pulling him to pieces. "Never again."  
  
 _Oh, no. No, please._  
  
If he could just reach him, show him that they didn't need to do this, remind him. If he could just use the _right_ words this time. If Erik would just listen! Missiles designed to pierce armor thicker than mere human skin speed away from them, and it is desperation that propels Charles towards Erik. The helmet had to go, it had to, and when it went it would let Erik back out and Charles back in and he could fix this. This is absolutely fixable and he can do it.  
  
Erik hesitates after knocking him into the sand, his hand steady as it sent hundreds of missiles careening towards Americans and Societs alike. Raven hovers uncertainly nearby, Erik having  Charles' mind stutters as he lies, dazed, on his back and thinks of what a failure he is. If he were just a bit stronger, couldn't he be stronger? For Erik? (Especially for Erik?) He's not sure how loudly he's broadcasting, how strongly Raven can feel his desperation, but no matter how frustrated she is with him and his "naïvete" she will _always be there for you, you idiot._   
  
Erik hesitates and suddenly he _exists_ again, Shaw's helmet torn from his head and flung far away by his beautiful sister.  
  
 _Erik!_ He can't help it, his brain works faster than he does and he can see that it's hurting Erik. He's being too loud, as though his power can possibly drown out the anger and fear ( _fear_ , fear of Charles and his power and that hurts more than Shaw's death had) that Erik can no longer hide from him. His concentration falters and the missiles waver in their path; some fall from the sky to explode before hitting the water.  
  
 _Oh, Erik. Erik, I'm sorry, so very sorry, so so sorry._  
  
That gets his attention at least. _For what?_  
  
 _God, so sorry, I-- Oh, god, Erik--_  
  
"For what!"  
  
The verbal exclamation catches Charles off-guard. Can't Erik tell? "Oh, Erik. Why is it I can never say the right thing for you? What will it take?" _What will it take for you to believe that you don't have to do this to yourself? You don't have to be the weapon, the sacrifice for the altar. You're not alone anymore._  
  
Erik's breath rate has increased, and it is taking more of himself than he's capable of giving to keep the missiles afloat for much longer. Moira is moving behind him, looking for an opportunity to stop him once and for all and if Charles had any more energy he would reassure her as well, but he has only mind for Erik.  
  
"Do this and it will haunt you for the rest of your life. Do this and hundreds, thousands of children will grow up with fear and hatred in their hearts. _Please_ , Erik, don't create more weapons." _Don't become what you've waited so long to destroy._  
  
Charles isn't sure if it's laughter or sobs that bubble up from somewhere inside him when Erik finally drops his hand, looking more lost and vulnerable than Charles had ever seen him. The missiles fall mere hundreds of feet from Navy ships and Charles can feel the waves of relief rolling across the ocean like waves, but he has only a mind for Erik. Erik who is back and safe and perhaps a little broken, but still _here._  
  
 _Charles,_ his mind whispers. _It still hurts. It didn't help._  
  
 _I won't leave you, you won't be alone._ He is so desperate to reach him and grab him and never let go that he almost doesn't catch Moira's thought ( _he's unstable, can't trust him, doing the right thing_ ) in time to warn him.   
  
"Moira, no!" He cries as he forces Erik down, his thoughts controlling each muscle as he's asking forgiveness with each impulse. The pistol crack is not so much deafening as the sudden pain is white-hot.  
  
Perhaps now it would be appropriate to say that Charles is suffering from shock.  
  
A small part of him wants to protest this outcome. To say that it isn't fair for him to reach Erik, to reach Erik and save thousands of lives, and then still to suffer. Another part would like to think that this is the universe balancing itself out. Erik is not shattered and so he must be cracked and reformed.  
  
His mind struggles to stay connected to Erik, to prove that he _means_ it, means everything he ever says to him because he is amazing, stunning, beautiful and he would give anything to have Erik see that himself.  
  
"Charles," distress, guilt, anger, fear, _fear so much fear._  
  
Erik extracts the bullet carefully, broadcasting so strongly that Charles wouldn't be surprised if even Moira could hear it. Moira, whose mind is awash with shock, shame, disbelief, fear. Raven, love, _fear._  
  
"I'm not leaving," he says as his mind fades, because it is important. Perhaps these are the most important words he's ever said. "I won't leave you. I'll never leave you."  
  
It is only when the edges of his vision start to turn black and creep in towards the center that he realizes: _I love you._  
  
It is only when the edges of his vision start to turn black and creep in towards the center that he realizes: "I can't feel my legs."


End file.
